I take the blade go up stares push the blade watch the blood run and let it slip out threw the hole in my vane but i see the darkness come but i don't seem to care but i notice the door open and my sister and brother come in and see me there bleeding holding the knife i pushed in so i let them see me but it is to late i em dead laying there for a reason and the last thing i see and say is crying and sorry is my word so i wish i could take it back and this is my last poem i em dead now i did slit my wrist so i say good
